


I'm Here

by Jean_no_Waifu



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Minimal trainee age is 15, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Shoujo manga style, Your life as one of the 104th trainees, lots and lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jean_no_Waifu/pseuds/Jean_no_Waifu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are starting off as a member of the 104th trainees. You're kind of self conscious about yourself, and who else but the cocky Jean Kirschtein to boost your self-confidence and get you through your training?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That Guy Named Jean

**Author's Note:**

> As tagged, this is in shoujo manga style (because I love shoujo manga way too much) as far as plot goes.
> 
> It's a simple story, but I love fluff!
> 
> I'm changing the recruit age to fifteen. Twelve seems a bit too young to build a romantic relationship to me, and fluff is always more fun when they're in their late teens *w*

Never again. You never wanted to face Keith Shadis ever again. If you never had to listen to him scream at you, it would be too soon. You sighed down at your stew and bread, glancing at the empty spaces around you. There were people gathered at the end of your table, laughing and talking with each other. But none of them were talking with you. The realization made you lose your appetite. You stirred your stew slowly, pouting silently. Suddenly, there was a plop across from you, and then another to follow it. You looked up to see a small, blonde girl smiling at you. 

“Is it okay if I sit here?” she asked.

“Y-yes,” you stammered, shocked by her presence. You looked at the intimidating, freckled brunette next to her and decided that maybe you didn’t want the blonde in front of you after all.

The blonde caught your glance. “No, no! Ymir is fine once you get to know her!” she stammered. “I want to be friends,” she added with an angelic smile. “That’s Ymir of course, and I’m Christa Renz. What’s your name?”

“[F/N] [L/N],” you replied uncertainly. People made you a bit nervous.

“Well, [F/N], I’m really happy to meet you.”

“Are you an angel? Or a goddess?” you blurted out on accident. Christa looked pleased, albeit a little surprised by your outburst. Out of nowhere, there was a racket coming from a little ways down the row you were sitting in. It was one of the boys from Shiganshina, your hometown. He was in a debate with someone else. You had to peek over Ymir’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, and you knew you’d get a crick in your neck from the angle you were looking at. After catching a glimpse of the second guy in the “fight”, you knew you wouldn’t regret this decision. He was handsome, to say the least. The angled jawline, sharp cheekbones, pointed nose… he was perfect. Not to mention his body. Dear lord, he was gorgeous, with his ashy mess of hair accenting his light brown eyes. You could only gawk at him, blushing lightly. 

“That’s Jean Kirschtein. He’s from Trost,” Ymir asserted tonelessly. You looked at the company in front of you. 

“Uh-um! That’s not… I wasn’t…” you tumbled over your words, blushing harder. After you were completely flustered, Christa giggled at you.

You looked back over Ymir’s shoulder. She, in response, scooted herself closer to Christa to aid your view of Kirschtein (she would deny that later, though, saying that she just wanted to sit closer to her future wife.) A beautiful, tall, black-haired girl followed the Shiganshina boy out of the room. Kirschtein was blushing and staring after her. You felt your very first pang of jealousy, and there were only going to be more of those pangs. 

He said a few words to the girl, who then swiftly walked out of the dining hall. You stood up, thanked Ymir and Christa for tolerating your stupidity, and wanted to leave. Kirschtein chased after her, and you weren’t far behind him. You heard him and Connie Springer talking outside of the door.

“Oh gross, dude! What did you just wipe on me?!”

“My faith in humanity.”

 

Later that night, you decided that you would befriend Jean Kirschtein if it was the last thing you did. You weren’t about to let some pretty… well, stunningly gorgeous… girl get in your way. You ran your fingers through your [h/c] hair, wondering if it would ever compare to Ackerman’s. 

~~xXx~~

 

The first day of training wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be. The most you did was train with the 3dmg simulator. You remembered very clearly how Eren Jaeger (you learned his name today through a slurry of Shadis’ insults) crashed flat on his face, and how Mikasa Ackerman was ridiculously good. You also remember Jean doing very well too, and it made you a little proud. But, it was only lunchtime. You would have a lot more work to do.

Ymir and Christa could not give you company during this meal; they were given permission to practice more with the 3dmg simulator. You looked down at your lunch, feeling the same loneliness as you did on the first night. There was a light clatter in front of you. 

“Hello, [F/N].” You looked up to see a dark-haired boy with freckles sitting in front of you.

“Hello,” you answered in mild surprise. 

“I’m Marco Bott. Do you remember me?” he smiled.

“Yes, I do,” you answered with a triumphant undertone in your voice. The way he was looking at you kind of reminded you of Christa. 

“Marco.” A voice called. “Making new friends, huh?” Plop.

Jean Kirschtein. Jean. Kirschtein. He sat next to you. Next. To. You.

“Yes, this is [F/N]…” Marco trailed off, looking to you for help remembering your last name.

“[L/N],” Jean finished. “That’s [F/N] [L/N].”

He remembered. You were blushing hard and avoiding looking at him subconsciously. 

“H-h-hello,” you managed to stutter. Marco stared at you, wide-eyed, a slow realization of your motives making its way across his face.

“I heard you did well in training,” he said, trying to start conversation.

“I did okay,” you smiled, thankful for the distraction from your own embarrassment. “Nowhere near as well as Mikasa or Jean, though…”

“It was pretty easy,” Jean boasted. You stared at him in admiration. If only you could be that confident…

Christa and Ymir walked into the hall, followed shortly after by Shadis.

“Listen up! We’re dividing up training in teams! You will be in teams of four, and you will all go to your respective commanding officers!”

“Sir!” Everyone stood at attention.

“Group one! Arlert, Renz, Ymir, and Carolina!”

“Sir!” the four called. Your heart was pounding on your chest. You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted Jean in your group more than you didn’t want him and Mikasa together.

“Group two! Bott, Ackerman, Jaeger, and Wagner!”

“Sir!” You were relieved that Mikasa and Jean weren’t in the same group, but you caught the flash of disappointment that flitted on Jean’s face.

“Group three! Kirschtein…” oh no, here it comes… “…Braun, Hoover, [L/N]!”

“Sir!” your group called. You were so excited and nervous that you didn’t remember any of the other groups.

“After lunch, you will report to the following officers…”

Shadis left, leaving everyone to finish their lunches.

“Too bad we’re not in the same group Jean, [F/N],” Marco sighed jokingly. You grinned in appreciation of the friendliness he was showing towards you.

“That’s alright,” Jean smirked. He clapped his hand on your shoulder. “We’ll have a great time on our own.” He looked down at you, still smirking confidently. “Right?”

“Yea!” you beamed, trying not to show how hypnotized you were by his light brown eyes.

You started to question whether or not you were going to be able to make it through this training session.


	2. Moonlight Promises

You stared at the three boys in front of you: Reiner Braun, Bertholdt Hoover, and, of course, Jean Kirschtein. You were all kind of just glancing around at each other, unsure of how to begin the sparring practice.

“Alright,” Reiner grinned, breaking the silence, “let’s do this, then.” Bertholdt nodded silently.

“Bertholdt’s a bit shy,” the blonde jerked a thumb in his subject’s direction. “So I’ll practice with him first.”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“That means you’re with me, [L/N],” Jean clapped your shoulder again. It seemed he could never smile; all he would show you was his trademark lopsided smirk. Not that you minded. It was very… attractive.

“How much martial arts training have you had?” Jean asked as he took the on-guard position. “I’ve only had a little.”

“I haven’t really had any…” you mumbled. That was a lie. At the very least, you helped kids that got bullied in Shiganshina. You took the on-guard position as well, waiting for Jean’s first move. He smirked at you again.

“Oh? No training?” He was teasing you.

“I can fight,” you asserted, playfully defensive.

“Show me what you’ve got, then, Princess.”

You felt your eyebrow twitch at the jab, but you were secretly happy at being called “Princess”. You lunged forward for a right hook. Jean was prepared for the hit, setting up a perfect block. You mirrored his smirk right before you feinted, throwing a left knee into his ribs. He blocked it partially—his reflexes were superb—but you nailed him pretty well. You managed to clip him in between his floating ribs, successfully knocking some wind out of him. He coughed in surprise. 

You felt triumphant, overall. Then you realized what you’d done.

“Oh Jesus, Jean, I’m so sorry!” You rushed over to his bent-over form.

He chuckled a bit through his coughing, but he still looked in pain.

“It’s… it’s alright, Princess…”

You rubbed the space between his shoulder blades, trying to ease him into standing. After you got Jean to put his arms over his head through his deep breaths, you saw Reiner and Bertholdt watching you. Reiner was laughing pretty hard. Bertholdt was looking away, but he was holding back a bout of small chuckles.

Connie ran over suddenly. “Oh, hey, look at you, Jean! Wow, you musta gotten pretty beat up!”

“Shut up,” Jean hissed half playfully.

“Look, look! Our groups get to practice with knives! Shadis showed us how to defend and attack and stuff!”

“Oh, hey, that’s pretty cool,” Reiner interjected, grabbing Connie’s wooden practice knife and thwap-ing him in the back of his head with it. 

“Ouch, hey! I came over to tell you that Eren wanted to practice with you since you’re so big and everything,” Connie grumbled. Reiner laughed some more before agreeing to go see Eren.

“Bertholdt, you should spar a bit with [L/N] over there; she should be able to handle you,” Reiner added before leaving and giving Connie’s knife back. You and Bertholdt locked gazes for a half a second before looking away in embarrassment. You glanced back hopefully to Jean, but he had started goofing around with Connie. Disappointed, you turned to Bertholdt and smiled at him shyly.

“We can spar whenever you feel comfortable enough,” you said, hoping for some conversation. Unfortunately, he only nodded, and the two of you just ended up standing there awkwardly. You started to question why you had been broken up into groups if everyone was just going to do whatever they wanted. You sighed to yourself and cursed your inability to talk to people easily. Soon, though, you saw Eren and Reiner with their backs on the ground and their asses in the air, and you had a hard time stifling your giggles. Shadis came back and verbally attacked anyone who wasn’t in their group. You grinned at their misfortune, and, looking back at Bertholdt, you saw a small glint of satisfaction on his face, too. 

~~xXx~~

It was time to train with the 3-D maneuvering gear. Shadis gave a lecture on how the gear worked; he explained the how important gas was to the instrument and how you had to make sure you had enough gas to function at all times. If you ran out, you’d be as good as titan fodder; it was safer to assume that no one would be stupid enough to save you.

After the rather depressing tutorial, everyone broke off into their respective teams. Everyone was issued their own set of 3DMG.

“Better not to get into trouble again, right?” Reiner grinned after strapping his gear onto his buckles.

“Sounds like a plan,” Jean smirked back.

The session went by uneventfully; you were pretty average at using your gear, but Jean, Reiner, and Bertholdt all did really well with theirs. You were kind of sad at how you weren’t extraordinary at using your gear, but Reiner said you did really well and were very intuitive. Bertholdt and Jean agreed with him. You were happy with their praise and made sure to work extra hard.

~~xXx~~

It was later than you thought it was; after Shadis was done screaming at everyone, he dismissed you to the mess hall for dinner. As you started to walk away, Christa and Ymir caught up with you.

“[F/N]!” Christa smiled at you. Ymir just walked slightly behind the angel, her face a mask of stoicism. Christa made polite conversation with you while you walked to the mess hall, but when you got there, the pair was called over to Mina and Thomas’ table.

You stood there quietly, unsure of where to go. You looked around the room quickly and saw Jean sit at the table closest to Mikasa. Marco sat next to him, and, after seeing you standing alone, the freckled boy motioned you over with a smile. You walked over and sat in front of Jean, who looked up at you in mild surprise.

“Hey, Princess,” he grinned, resting his cheek on his hand. 

“Hi,” you smiled back at him politely. You thought the butterflies in your stomach were going to eat you from the inside out. After glancing at Marco’s face, you saw that he knew what you were feeling. You could tell by the small smirk on his face.

“I’m going to go get our food,” he announced, standing. 

“I could help…” you offered.

“It’s okay; I can do it.”

After Marco left, you looked at Jean, trying to hide your blush.

“Well, Princess, you did pretty well today,” the brown-eyed boy complimented you playfully.

“You did better than me,” you replied modestly. 

“It was pretty easy,” he started to boast. Marco rejoined you with a large tray full of food and three mugs in his right hand. You all grabbed your own food and downed it pretty quickly.

“I heard that the maneuvering gear wasn’t much of a problem for you, Jean,” Marco started.

“Of course not!” He kind of reminded you of a proud bird puffing out its chest feathers. You were slightly amused at his pride, but there was something about him…

You remembered, now. He wanted to join the Military Police to live a protected life. That wasn’t something very admirable, but you were sure that he was a good person, albeit a bit selfish. That was okay with you.

“…by manipulating your inertia that way, you won’t expend as much gas,” Jean was saying. He was talking very loudly.

“You make it sound easy,” Marco sighed.

“Well, it’s not like everyone can do it.” The bragging was making you kind of irritated. Was he trying to insult everyone who was working hard? Then you saw him glance at Mikasa, just across the aisle. It made sense. He was trying to impress her. You felt jealous again, but then you thought that you had no real reason to be. You had only just met Jean, yet you felt this way… but then again, Jean had just met Mikasa. Your feelings were fair.

“There’s nothing to lose by keeping that in mind, especially if you want to enlist in the Military Police,” Jean continued, talking to Marco.

“Yeah, it’d be nice if I could,” the freckled boy replied in a daydreaming voice. “There’s no greater honor than being able to work under the king.” He happily went to take a sip of his drink.

“Hey, Marco,” Jean smirked. He suddenly slapped Marco hard in between his shoulder blades, causing him to splash his drink all over his face. “Quit lying to yourself and just say what you really want to think. I know you want to enlist in the Military Police so you can have a safe and pleasant life within the inner walls.” Jean’s face was almost frightening as he looked dead into Marco’s face. You were kind of scared at Jean’s ferocity and definitely disagreed with how he was treating Marco. You saw that most everyone was watching silently, a few of them fuming. You looked back into Jean’s face. You were unable to find yourself that mad at him. He was just saying what was on his mind. It was brash, harsh, and far from being sugar-coated, but he didn’t care. You could hardly get out proper wording on a normal basis, but here was Jean Kirschtein, uncaring of conflict, able to speak freely. You stared at him in awe and admiration, but you had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to have his ass handed to him soon.

“It’s pleasant within the inner walls?” Eren interjected, slowly setting his drink down. “Five years ago, this was a part of that area, you know.” Cue ass-whooping.

“What are you getting at, Eren?” Jean scowled.

“Jean, I think the inside of your head… is plenty pleasant no matter where you are.”

Jean’s eyebrow twitched in anger. He saw the snickers pass around the room. “Why, you…”

“Don’t you think it’s strange?” Eren continued, having captured Jean’s attention. “How we’re honing our skills to kill the titans in order to get away from them, that is.”

“Why bring that up now? This inane plan should be maintained for my sake, too.”

Eren stood quickly and furiously. “You piece of garbage!”

Jean slammed his hand on the table to stand himself up, as well, and it made you flinch a tiny bit. You didn’t know what to do, but you had to admit, Eren had a point. 

“Shut up! Just face reality!”

Armin was very concerned with how things were going to turn out. “Eren, calm yourself!”

Mikasa decided to take matters into her own hands. She snuck up behind Eren and grabbed his arm. “Stop it.”

Eren looked away, embarrassed. For a second, there was a trace of real pain on Jean’s face, but it was gone as soon as it came. He grabbed Eren’s shirt in a death grip and pulled on it. “Don’t screw with me, you bastard!”

“Let go! You’ll tear my shirt!”

“Who gives a damn about your clothes?! I’m so jealous!”

“Huh?! What are you talking about?!”

‘Jealous, huh?’ you thought to yourself, smiling sadly.

Eren’s eyes widened as he had a sudden realization. His movements were swift as he stepped forward and flipped Jean over onto his back.

“Ouch!” Jean shouted. “What the hell was that?!”

“It’s a hand-to-hand technique I went through Hell to learn while you were slacking off.” Eren snarled back. He was right, too. Jean had only practiced when you nailed him in the ribs. “You think kicking back and doing whatever you want is reality? Can you still call yourself a soldier?”

You and Marco glanced at each other, both of you unwilling to get up and help your friend. He was in the wrong this time. He needed to know that. Judging from his shocked and hurt expression, you could tell he was definitely rethinking some things. You wanted so badly to help him.

The mess hall door opened. Shadis was looking in.

“I heard a loud noise a moment ago… anyone care to explain?”

He walked in slowly and menacingly while Eren and Jean trudged to the closest available seats, next to Mikasa and you, respectively. Jean glowered at the table indignantly. Eren looked pissed, but said nothing.

“It was the sound of Sasha farting.” Mikasa raised her hand and spoke expressionlessly. Sasha, on the other hand, looked horrified. Shadis covered his nose in saddened disgust.

“So it was you again. Learn some modesty.”

~~xXx~~

You decided to take a walk. You had been staring at the ceiling of your room for an unsurmountable amount of time. You were wide awake.

Having gone completely undetected on your way out of the cabin, you were able to roam free through the grounds. It was beautiful outside; there were now clouds to hide the vast expanse of stars, and the night gave everything a dark bluish hue. Everything was peaceful; not even the titans could scare you now. 

You started to pass another building when you heard another set of footsteps. As the person turned the corner, you saw it was Shadis, keeping careful watch over the site. You almost gasped and started to back away. There was nowhere for you to go, and you stood in shock, lost in your carelessness. You squeezed your eyes shut and waited for a punishment. Suddenly, a hand darted out and clamped over your mouth. The arm connected to it dragged you to your right, into a small gap in between the building you just passed and the one in front of you. Another arm wound around your waist and pulled you harder. You had a strong urge to bite the hand that was covering your mouth, but then you realized it was dragging you into cover. There was a slight ditch that led out of the gap, and the bearer of the grabby arms pushed you into it, clutching you close to them to keep you both hidden.

Shadis stopped, hearing the sound of your scuffling. You heard him tread more carefully, but it was almost masked by the breathing of your savior. He or she was really close to your ear. 

The bald, ferocious man looked around for a bit. You heard his feet near the vicinity of your head, so you shrunk back into the body of your savior, who held you tighter. Shadis decided at some point that he was satisfied with the area and started to walk away. As his footsteps got quieter, you started to notice that the person holding you smelled really good— kind of woodsy, with a hint of salt and leather. The person released you and pulled away, lifting you out of the ditch.

“What are you doing, [L/N]?” the person hissed. “You almost got caught.” You knew that voice…

“Jean?” 

“Yeah?”

You looked up and barely saw his ashy, two-toned hair, but it was still undoubtedly him. You could have sworn your face exploded in nervousness and embarrassment.

“W-w-w-what are y-you d-d-doing out?” You tripped heavily over your words.

“You didn’t answer my question, Princess,” he retorted.

“I-I-I was just… walking…” Jean had grabbed your waist. You were so close to him you could smell him. And damn, did he smell good. But he had been holding you and had saved you and oh god what were you going to do—

“Just walking?” Jean had a lilt of genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Well… I was going to do some thinking too… I can’t sleep,” you finished lamely. Jean smirked at you, but there wasn’t any meanness in it.

“Do you mind walking with me, then?” He looked sideways. You could have sworn he was blushing too, but it was probably nothing.

“Y…yea. Okay,” you agreed. You both stepped out of the ditch and walked to your right, hoping that Shadis was far enough away to not see you.

You made it to a hidden field behind the camp site. It was a gorgeous field, open and grassy, with small wisps of flowers sprinkled across it. The moon shone more here, giving it a pale color. The pair of you sat together, staring up at the stars.

“Oi, [L/N],” Jean started, still looking upward.

“Yes?” you answered, a little bit surprised at the sudden break in the silence.

“That scene at the mess hall… did you agree with him? Jaeger, I mean.”

You contemplated what to say for a moment. “Yes, I did. It’s strange how backwards the system is, and you can’t expect to be a soldier by lazing about. Even if it’s just for the Military Police.” Jean was quiet, and you thought that maybe you had hurt his feelings somehow. Then he spoke again.

“Do you think that if I worked harder, I’d be better?”

You looked at him curiously. “‘Better’ what?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I guess… a better person?”

“Jean…?” Your concern was heavy in your voice.

“…or something like that,” Jean concluded, giving a small smile.

“Jean, you’re not a bad person,” you asserted. He looked down at you in wonder. Your [e/c] eyes blazed with a fierceness that he had only seen on Eren. “You’re lazy, weak, and kind of selfish.” He frowned at you. “Despite that, you’re a good leader and a thoughtful person. You don’t need to become better. You should work hard because you want to be strong.”

Jean stared at you for what seemed like a long time. You were really, really self-conscious at this point, but you didn’t want to look away. His ashy hair, his slightly tanned skin, his light brown eyes… they glowed in the pale moonlight. It was almost magical, the two of you sitting together in the moonlight.

“Say, [L/N]…” Jean murmured. He leaned towards you ever so slightly, making you incredibly nervous. “What branch are you going to go into?”

“Well… that’s what I came out here to think about. I was going to be in the Garrison, but it’s not…” not what? It wasn’t good enough, that’s what it was. You had an unending need for adventure, and, even though the titans terrified you, you knew humanity needed to prevail. The decision had already been made before you debated about it. “…I’m going to join the Survey Corps,” you said softly. All Jean could do was gawk.

“You could get killed… no, it’s basically a guarantee you’ll get killed. Are you sure…?”

“Yes,” you smiled, satisfied with yourself. “I will help humanity survive. And… I want to be stronger.”

“You’re plenty strong, Princess,” Jean chuckled. “If you change your mind, I’ll wait for you in the Military Police.”

You laughed back. “I don’t think so, Kirschtein. You’ll come looking for me.”

Jean ruffled your [h/c] hair playfully. “Alright, Princess, it’s a bet.”


	3. Save Me

“C’mon, Princess,” Jean panted, smirking back at you, “it’s not that… long of a run.”

“Shut… up… Kir… Kirschtein…” you huffed out. This was supposed to be the day of your run through the woods behind the campsite. You were going to camp out once you got to the end of the woods, and then the following day was going to be your first annual skill assessment. However, on the day of your run, it had starting raining, and you heard that the run wasn’t cancelled. Everyone had packed up, humorously grim, and started their trek.

Jean was slightly ahead of you, but he was glancing back at you periodically. It made you really happy; if he had been trying to keep his eyes forward, he could have been watching Mikasa at the very front. He wasn’t bothering with her today, just you. The pair of you were holding up pretty well, but neither of you could spot Marco easily. Most every group of friends was separated, and it was hard to see anyone well in the steaming, heavy rain. You saw Armin start to trail off in the back and Reiner fall back to help him, and you felt a little sorry for the short blonde, as he was usually weaker than everyone else. 

Thankfully, the run wasn’t as long as everyone thought it was going to be. That being said, everyone was still winded. You all had to pass through a small town on your way to the final site. The town was very small, but one could manage to get themselves lost. It was full of mostly sturdy cabins, and it looked dreary due to the rain. Every house and person was covered with a hue of gray, and it only served to make your green cloaks obvious. Everyone disbanded from formation after being told that you were all going to rest for a while. You, Jean, and Marco all found each other and sat under a nearby awning. 

“How’d you do, Marco?” you asked, still slightly out of breath. You all unloaded your gear, leaving the harnesses on.

“I did pretty good, I think,” he answered politely. He was always very polite. 

“I did pretty well too,” Jean began. You quietly sighed with a smile; here came the boasting. “Well, I at least did better than [L/N] here; I saw her having problems.”

“Hey!” you protested. “I was doing fine!” They both laughed at you.

Suddenly, you heard a pathetic mewling sound, and you stopped making sound immediately. “Guys, do you hear that?”

Jean and Marco both shook their heads confusedly. You then saw a limping cat turning a corner away from you, absolutely drenched. You gasped in fear for its life and took off after it. As you ran, you heard the seemingly distant cries of your friends. You turned the corner and found the cat collapsed. You picked it up carefully, horrified. You felt a faint heartbeat and held the cat in your jacket. Farther up the street, you heard someone calling a name. You ran towards the voice, turning another two corners to find it. There was a small girl crying and her mother trying to usher her inside.

“Excuse me!” you called desperately. You were very, very cold and twice as wet by now. The mother glanced up and, upon seeing you, she looked incredibly worried and motioned for you to go over. Relieved, you ran up and asked about the cat. The girl started crying anew and grabbed the poor creature from your arms. The mother thanked you profusely and asked you if you needed to come inside. 

“No thank you,” you said reluctantly. “I need to get back to my comrades.”

The rain started waning, and as you walked away from the house, it stopped completely. Your feet kept sloshing through puddles, and you were panting heavily. You realized as you reached a cross street that you had no idea where you were going. You looked left and right, unable to figure out which direction you had taken. 

“Are you lost?” a voice called. There was a young man standing across the street, a little to the right, beneath an awning that jutted out of the side of a building in an alleyway.

“Yes,” you called back breathlessly. You stumbled over to him. You were only a couple feet away from him before you realized that the man was a lot older than you thought he was, and your instincts screamed ‘no’ at you. You froze and stepped back, and the man realized that his intentions were given away. He shot forward with more speed than you anticipated. He grabbed your wrist roughly and threw you at the alleyway with a force you also hadn’t expected. You tumbled far into the alley, which was actually fairly dry. The man stomped toward you while you tried to scream and recover. No matter what you did, you couldn’t yell loud enough or move more than a few exhausted inches at a time. This was the second time you had felt helpless, and this man’s intentions were just as fearsome as the titans in Shiganshina. You rolled so you were on your hands and knees, crawling away. He stepped on your back, and you slammed into the ground. You had what little breath you possessed knocked out of you. 

“Kind of weak for a soldier, ain’t ya’?” the man snarled. 

“Please,” you gasped.

“‘Please’?” he laughed cruelly. He pushed you with his foot so you were more on your back. He kicked you in the ribs, causing you to cry out hoarsely. He crouched down, his massive hands gripping your wrists. Something inside you bucked out, trying desperately to give you strength. You decided to hold your breath. When he punched you in the cheek and ribs, you conserved your breath as much as possible. There was no way to fight him. He unhooked your cloak and started to open your jacket, satisfied that you weren’t screaming.

He was wrong.

You let out a bloodcurdling shriek as loud as you could. The man was stunned into stopping movement. This only lasted for a second. He slapped you in the face, busting your lip. You were sure someone heard your scream, but you didn’t want him to win.

“JEAN!” you wailed. The man was getting angrier, so he ripped your cloak and jacket off. “JEEAAAAAAN!”

“[F/N]!”

Jean.

The man whipped around, releasing you. You curled your arms over your chest and did your best to use your damaged clothing to cover yourself. The man ran away from you, towards Jean at the end of the alley. Jean met him furiously while Marco ran around him to get to you.

“[F/N]!” Marco lightly grabbed your shoulder. You were shivering violently from the cold.

You watched Jean attack the man very harshly. The man didn’t stand a chance. Jean used Annie’s flip to smash the man’s back into the ground, and then he kicked him solidly in the ribs a few times. Certain that the man wasn’t getting up anytime soon, Jean quickly made his way to you. He kneeled in front of you. His fiery brown eyes stared into yours. After you saw the worry on his face, you started to cry. The shock of the situation finally got to you. Marco let go of your shoulder so Jean could pull you in for a hug. You could barely hug him back, so you settled for holding the front of his shirt. Marco said a few words to Jean that you couldn’t quite make out and jogged away. After he was gone, Jean tightened his grip around you.

“Jean,” you whimpered through your crying. “Jean, it was so scary…” 

“It’s okay,” he soothed you. “It’s okay, [F/N]. I’m here.” He rubbed your back in a small motion. He was wet; he had been looking for you. He pulled away from you to replace your completely ruined cloak with his own, then held you again.

“[F/N]…” Jean murmured. He rubbed his face in your hair. You sank further and further into his scent, lost in his musk. It left you dizzy and light, and you started to feel sleepy. 

You heard people starting to pile around the alley entrance. Hearing their voices, you could tell that they were from the military. The man was being taken away, and the officials walked over to you and Jean. After sitting with him, you felt prepared to take on everything. But only after a good nap. The drowsiness and Jean’s warmth and smell took over you, and you fell asleep.

~~xXx~~

You woke up, blinking slowly at the wooden ceiling. You looked down and saw white sheets covering you. To your immediate right, there was a wall, and to your left, Jean was asleep in a chair, using the side of your bed to rest his head. His arms were folded under his forehead, making an impromptu pillow. You sat up slowly, so as to not wake him. You looked at his fluffy, ashy hair and felt an overwhelming urge to pet him. You did. His hair was fluffier than it looked, which was saying something. You ran your fingers through it softly, remembering his gentle hug…

Oh god. He hugged you… and you could have sworn he was smelling your hair. Oh god oh god oh goooood… Your face turned red again, but your eyes wandered across the side of his face that was facing up. His lips were a little thin, but they were cushy looking. You stared at his lips for a longer time than you thought you did. His eyes gave a small twitch, and then they opened. Your fingers were still tangled in his hair. As you realized this, your face grew redder.

“Um… I… uh… I was just… I’m sorry!” you stuttered, squeezing your eyes shut. ‘How embarrassing!’ you cried in your head.

“It’s okay, Princess.” Jean smiled up at you, removing your hand from his head. He held onto your hand, though, and the smile faded as his face turned serious. You stared at him, incredibly nervous. The red in your face made sure to mirror that.

“You’re…” Jean started. He paused to collect his words, looking down to concentrate. “You’re very important to me, [L/N].” He looked back up at you, a very slight blush on his face.  
“You need to cherish your life, too. I don’t want to lose you. You and Marco are my most important friends.” You realized at that moment that, despite all of his boasting and selfish claims, Jean held the lives of others above his own.

“Jean… you’re important t-to me too…” you said through your embarrassment. You were feeling a little gutsy. “More important than most people. I…” You couldn’t say it. ‘I like you.’ Jean’s face was stunned. A little more blush came on his face. “I need you.” 

Jean’s hand clenched around yours. He was still staring at your face. “O-oi… [L/N], do you… do you li—”

The door opened, and Marco, Christa, and Ymir walked in. They saw the position you were in. Christa blushed and put her hands up to her O-shaped mouth, while Ymir turned her head to one side and let out a single coughing laugh. Marco looked strangely satisfied.

“Why’s everyone blocking the door?” You heard Eren’s voice from behind Ymir. Meanwhile, you and Jean had frozen, and the only thing about the pair of you that looked different was that your faces were a crimson color. Eren pushed his way between Ymir and Marco, with Mikasa following close behind him. Eren just stood with a look of sheer “….what did I miss?” on his face. Mikasa, of course, wore her look of stoicism. When Jean caught a glimpse of Mikasa, he stood up ramrod straight, letting go of your hand. 

“This isn’t… um…” Jean started to defend himself. A small look of embarrassed hurt came and went in a flash. Marco was staring at you; he saw the face you made and gave you a look of pity in turn. Mikasa also showed a flash of knowing in her eyes. You looked back at her with an indignant, jealous face. The beautiful girl’s only response was inching a step closer to Eren.

Jokes were made, and it only got funnier when Reiner and Bertholdt visited. Everyone was laughing. Because of your laughter, you realized that your face was cut and partially swollen and your ribs really, really hurt.

“What’s going on in here?” came the low voice of Shadis from the doorway. All but you stood at attention. “If you’ve all got time to bother [L/N], then you’ve got time to do some more training.”

“Yes, sir!” Everybody called.

“Good. Everyone out! Your training will start when you move out!”

“Sir!” Everyone started to file out.

“Bott! Kirschtein! Ackerman! Stay put!”

“Sir!” All of the others left while Marco, Jean, and Mikasa stood at attention at your bedside. 

“There will be some officials coming later. Answer their questions, and afterwards, you will all report outside. Ackerman, you don’t need to stay for the questions, but you are to take care of [L/N] for sleeping and hygienic matters. Kirschtein, you’ve been assigned as her caretaker during training hours. We need Ackerman for training the weaker soldiers. That is all.”

“Yes sir!”

Shadis was out of the door, and Mikasa followed shortly after him after seeing you were in good hands. Marco turned to the pair of you with a sly look on his face. 

“Sooo… what exactly did we walk in on?”

“Nothing!” Jean protested hotly, his face still red. Marco focused his gaze on you. He knew that you’d crack easier and confess.

“I-i-i-i-i-i-it w-w-was…” you stammered. “Th-that is… um…”

Marco just started laughing again. “I’ll leave it alone. Are you okay?”

You were very relieved at the change of topic. “I’m fine, now.” Because Jean was there to make you feel better.

“That’s really good; I’m glad.” There wasn’t much time for conversation after that, as the investigators from the Garrison entered the room. Their questions weren’t that troubling, and you were able to go to training soon. 

You stood up slowly and took your first breath standing with your damaged torso. A sharp pain zapped across your chest, convincing you completely that your ribs were angry at you. Your steps weren’t solid, and your balance was thrown off. Jean caught you as you fell on your third footfall. You both looked away from each other, blushing (though you a bit more than him). He wrapped your arm over his shoulder and wound his arm around your waist. He took most of your weight easily, and you both hobbled into the field. Thankfully, Marco decided not to say anything about it. 

You watched Jean train idly. You were unable to move on your own, much to your frustration. You wanted to train. Shadis told you that your annual assessment would have to wait for a couple days while you recovered, and you stubbornly told him that you would be okay in two.

Jean was sparring with Mina Carolina, which slightly bothered you. He had said he had a thing for girls with long, black hair, and you couldn’t deny that Mina’s was very pretty. She liked him, too. You could tell by the way she smiled at him. It wasn’t just the hair; she was very sweet and outgoing, with just enough spunk to make her playful. And she was cute and charismatic. As you went through the list of good things about Mina, you started to feel more and more doubtful of Jean reciprocating any of your feelings. He was having a lot of fun with her. You felt the jealousy growing and becoming out of control, making you feel nauseous.

Luckily, training was over. Jean looked over at you. His face seemed like it lit up, but you decided you were imagining things. He started to walk toward you to help you to dinner, but Mina caught his wrist before he could move very far. She was blushing slightly, looking down and to the left, and she spoke to him quickly. He stared at her with an unreadable expression, then smiled and nodded at her. She looked really happy and then ran away with a giant grin. You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach with worry. What did she ask him? What if she confessed to him? 

“Hey, Princess, what’s wrong?” Jean was kneeling in front of you again.

“Oh… uh… my stomach hurts…” you lied poorly. You did you best to sound casual; the curiosity was murder to your emotions. “So, what did Mina want?”

“Oh, that? She asked if I would talk to her before dinner,” Jean said earnestly while hoisting you up. You apparently succeeded in acting normal.

“You know what she’s going to say, right?” you teased him, your hope making an attempt at restoration. The pair of you waddled to the mess hall. You could feel your chest being unhappy at your body moving, so you started a light panting to catch your breath.

“What do you mean?” He was actually confused.

“You mean… you don’t know?” you huffed, loving his mental density.

“What?” he whined a little. “Tell me.”

“She…” It was incredibly hard to breath, and Jean could tell without listening to you talk.

“Here.” He dropped your arm and didn’t let go of your waist until you steadied yourself. He walked in front of you, turned away, and then squatted, offering you a piggyback ride. You blushed at his back but accepted it. He gripped your thighs as you linked your arms in front of him. You nestled your head on his left shoulder as he started to move forward. 

“Now you have to tell me what you’re thinking,” Jean continued. You could almost feel the smirk on his face, even though you couldn’t see it.

“She likes you, Kirschtein,” you stated bluntly. Jean said nothing for a moment.

“How do you know?”

“I just… do.” You got doubly nervous, but it wasn’t all good. You couldn’t read Jean’s face. Your intuition was never wrong, but you started second guessing yourself.

“Well… maybe I shouldn’t meet her, then. It would suck to tell her that I like someone else.”

You wanted to lighten up the mood, so you tried to joke about it. “If there’s someone who doesn’t know you like Mikasa, they’re probably denser than you are.”

“I don’t…” Jean grumbled defensively. The mood got lighter, though.

“You don’t what?” you questioned, trying to keep the happier feeling.

“I… we’re at the mess hall. Down you go, Princess.” He avoided the question, and it just made you more curious and slightly irked.

“You don’t what? Tell me, Jean!” you grumped at him.

“I’ll sit you at the table first, then I’ll go to meet Mina.”

He ignored you?! “No. I’ll wait out here until you’re done. I want to know how it goes.”

Jean looked at you with surprise; you weren’t usually this forward. He shrugged and smirked at you, then turned the corner to your right as you leaned your back against the wall. You waited until the footsteps faded. You looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then you slinked after him with strong pains in your stomach. You really wanted to know what was going to happen.

Luckily for your torso, Jean didn’t actually go too far. You were surprisingly stealthy for having to lean against a wall to walk. You heard talking in the back of the building, so you knew you were going the right direction. You got close enough to the edge of the wall to just be able to overhear the conversation between Jean and Mina.

“…sorry for bothering you with this,” Mina laughed nervously.

“It’s not a bother,” Jean reassured with a neutral tone. 

“Well… um…” She was having a hard time starting. You couldn’t blame her. “I know you like Mikasa, but… I wanted to tell you that… that I like you too… and ask you if you’d accept my feelings…”

There was a very tense pause. Your heart felt like it was being squeezed and twisted as you waited for the reply.

“I’m sorry, Mina. I can’t return those feelings. I’m interested in someone else.”

“It’s okay… I knew you’d say that, but you don’t like Mikasa anymore?”

“…No, I don’t.”

Utter shock filled your mind. You couldn’t think straight—the hope and confusion swirled around your chest and head.

“Okay… okay. Sorry about this. Um… would you tell me who it is? Or would you rather not say? It would make me feel a bit better, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…”

“I’d rather not… but I’d like to make you feel a bit better.” He paused again, and you were prepared to jump out and shake him and demanded to know who he has feelings for.

“It’s…”

“It’s okay, Jean,” Mina interrupted. “This is uncomfortable for you. I understand.”

You felt your stomach drop as Jean thanked her. You started to hobble away back to where Jean left you, sorely disappointed.


	4. There's no Training Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no training tomorrow, so Christa and Ymir wanted to have some teenage fun for the night~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven Minutes in Heaven is when two people, chosen at random, are shoved into a closet (or the closest thing to one) for seven minutes. Just in case someone doesn't know~

“Are you okay, [L/N]?” you heard Mikasa call from outside your door.

You were trying to change into your pajamas, but your thoughts and heavy bruising to your torso were inhibiting your movement. 

“Y-yes,” you gasped as you bent too far down in an attempt to pull up your pants. Obviously it was a lie, but you didn’t want her to go in and help you. Even though you overheard Jean saying he didn’t like her anymore, you were still uneasy around her. She wasn’t the type to make many more friends outside of Eren and Armin (at least, that’s the impression you got). Unfortunately, she heard the pain in your voice. There was a pause, and then her voice came in through the door.

“I’m coming in.”

The door opened softly. The spectacle Mikasa got to see was you standing there pathetically with an untidy pajama shirt and half-on pajama pants. You stood there awkwardly, blushing slightly and staring at the floor in frustration. The beautiful girl walked up to you and helped you pull up your pants quietly. She then fixed your shirt, pulling the soft fabric over your bandages carefully. Her touch was a lot gentler than you had thought it was going to be.

“I understand not wanting to need to help,” Mikasa spoke suddenly. “However, your injuries are a bit too serious to have that thought.”

“I have to be strong,” you confessed in a rush of stubborn heat. “I want to protect…” oh crap, you almost slipped. “…him.”

Mikasa met your gaze evenly. She gave you a small smile. The shock of Mikasa actually smiling at you had you reeling.

“Then I wish you the best of luck. Just don’t hesitate to call me for help.”

“I… I won’t. Are you going tonight? To Christa and Ymir’s room, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Do you… want to go together?” your voice had a small tremble in it, revealing your nervousness. 

“Sure.” 

The two of you snuck out of your room, making sure to check for guards. It’s been two days since your incident in town. Walking was easier for you now, and so was standing up and sitting down. Bending, however, made your bruised torso rather unhappy. You still needed Jean’s help for training, but the bruising had gone down substantially. Some of the area around your ribs was still black, and you were convinced that you had most of the rainbow on the rest of your torso. You had a single cut on your back that went from your left shoulder blade down to the middle of your ribs. It wasn’t deep, but it bled a lot. You kept protective bandages over it to make sure there was no more damage done to it. As far as your face went, the cut was healing quickly, though it was still covered. It was small and didn’t use a lot of gauze in its coverage. Your lip wasn’t swollen anymore; the vertical red line was the only indicator that you had ever been hit. 

You and Mikasa reached Christa and Ymir’s room without any hassle or words exchanged between you. The signal to get in was three knocks in succession, and then a fourth placed slightly after.

The door opened for the two of you, and, upon surveying the room, you were definitely the last to arrive. The circle held Eren, Armin, Mina, Jean, Marco, Ymir, Christa, Sasha, Reiner, Bertholdt, Thomas, and Connie opening the door for you. There was a large pile of papers in the middle, next to a bowl with smaller papers in it. Mikasa moved immediately to sit by Eren. You looked jealously at Mina sitting next to Jean. Though the look had only lasted for a second, Marco caught on right away. He scooted away from his best friend to make room for you with a knowing smile on his face. You sat happily in between them, making a note to thank Marco profusely later.

“Hey, Princess,” Jean smirked at you. There was a light chatter, but not too loud. “You’re a bit late, aren’t you?”

“Shut up, Kirschtein,” you teased him back. Before you could add on anything else, Sasha and Connie called the group to attention. 

“Alright, everyone’s here! Time to start!” Their voices were hushed but excited. “[F/N] and Mikasa,” Sasha started, “you guys weren’t here, but we wrote down everybody’s names on little pieces of paper—”

“—and suggestions for questions to ask or stuff to do on bigger pieces of paper,” Connie finished. “We’re gonna pick a random idea and use the names as needed. If we pick a question or dare that doesn’t specify a number of people, it applies to the whole group. We’ll draw a name and go in a circle to the left so everyone can answer the question or do a dare.” 

“There’ll be a punishment if you refuse,” Sasha finished. “Is everyone ready?”

“Yea!” The mood overall was very intimate and thrilled, and having to keep everyone’s voices down to a murmur just intensified the intimacy.

Sasha and Connie did rock-paper-scissors to see who would draw first. Sasha won.

“Ooookay…” she swished her fingers through the larger papers on the ground until she settled on one. She drew it dramatically from the pile, unfolding it eagerly. “This one’s a question for the whole group: 

‘Who do you think is the sexiest person in this room?’

Don’t forget to tell the truth.” 

She leaned over to the bowl of names and jumbled the papers, picking one at random.

“Starting wiiiith… Marco.”

Marco was sitting to your left; you would have to go last. You looked up at the freckled boy, who was blushing lightly and fidgeting.

“[F… [F/N]…” he finally choked out. You were both blushing and looking away from each other while giggles circled the group of people.

Ymir was next; she looked stoic, which was kind of frightening.

“Christa.”

Christa proceeded to join you and Marco in blushing. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Jean’s reactions, but you could hear him laughing with everyone. You were laughing because there was no hesitation in Ymir’s answer.

Then Christa. 

“Um… I… guess… Thomas…?” 

Almost everyone laughed again, including you and Marco. You had to admit, though, you were laughing mostly at Reiner and Ymir’s rocky expressions. The question continued around the circle, to Sasha, Thomas, Reiner, Bertholdt, Connie, Eren (he said your name, too), Mikasa, and then Armin. After him was Mina, who, surprisingly, said Marco. Then it was Jean’s turn.

“Do we even need to ask him?” Connie teased, earning him laughs from most everyone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Jean retorted indignantly. 

“Everyone knows you’ve got it bad for Mikasa,” you joined in. You didn’t actually expect yourself to say it, but there was definitely a hidden challenge that only Marco caught onto: prove me wrong. The group loved that the statement came from one of his best friends; they were very excited with the turn of events. However, Jean’s light pink face didn’t give you the reaction you wanted. It only made your jest truer.

“L-leave him alone!” Christa called out. It was decided that Jean didn’t get his turn. He crossed his arms huffily, scrunching up his face in a playful scowl.

“Alright, [F/N],” Sasha said, her eyes lit up from the still-growing intimacy.

It was everything you could do to keep your face from completely flushing. You couldn’t stop all of the blush; a light pink rouge made itself known on your cheeks.

“I think…” you decided to make it look like you had to think about it. The game was no fun if you lied about your answers, but if you lied about the depth of your feelings… “...probably… Kirschtein.” Oh god. You said it.

You made the mistake of looking up at Jean. He was looking down at you, his face a picture of shock. Your eyes met, and you felt an irrational fear take over you. 

“Looks like you’ve got a fan, Horseface,” Eren interjected. Jean’s eyebrow twitched, and he put on his usual smirk.

“Like what you see, Princess?”

Your face flushed while the group passed around laughter.

“Shut up, Kirschtein.”

“Let’s do another one,” Connie jumped at his chance to pick a paper. He drew one out from the bottom of the pile.

“‘Who was your first kiss? If you haven’t had it yet, who do you want to lose it to?’

And it also says to draw three names.”

You didn’t want to answer this one. You hadn’t had your first kiss yet, and you knew exactly who you wanted to lose it to.

Connie picked three names from the bowl after moving the papers around again.

“Mina, Bertholdt, and Sasha.”

You felt relief go through your body and joined in on the excitement.

Mina looked flustered, and a frustrated smile slithered on her face. “I’ve had my first kiss already.”

“Who was it?!” Christa leaned forward in anticipation, getting into the mood.

“T…Thomas…”

Connie, Reiner, and Eren started teasing him, and even Armin was having fun. Mikasa cracked another small smile.

“Bert, who was your first kiss?” Thomas attempted, red-faced, to draw the attention away from himself. Luckily for him, it worked. Poor Bert looked terrified, and a bead of sweat was on his face. Despite his clear reluctance to speak, he was having a very good time.

“I haven’t…” he trailed off, unwilling to say any more.

“You haven’t had your first kiss yet?” Reiner grinned. “Who do you wanna get it from, then, huh?”

“S…Sasha…”

The aforementioned potato girl was a pale pink color, and Bertholdt looked like he wanted to curl up into a ball and never unfurl. All eyes turned on her, not wanting to tease the shy boy any further. Sasha was glancing around nervously, but a smile was still on her face.

“Sorry, Bert… I’ve already had my first kiss.” She glanced over at Connie, who was then assaulted by almost all of the rest of the boys in the room. You, among the rest of the girls, were stifling loud giggles. After quite a bit of time, Sasha pulled a random paper.

“‘Seven Minutes in Heaven. Draw one name, group chooses second person.’”

There were murmurs of nervous excitement. The bodies of everyone pressed closer as they leaned in forward towards the bowl of names. Sasha paused before burying her hand in the bowl and pulling a name excitedly.

“[F/N].” You felt your face burn a shade of bright red. There was a good chunk of the group staring at you with questionable grins.

“I think her partner’s pretty obvious; don’t you think so, Jean?” Reiner grinned mischievously, crossing his arms and nodding his head. 

“Who is it?” Jean looked around at everyone, sincerely confused. You weren’t really looking at anything in particular; you were just trying to fathom being stuck in Ymir and Christa’s armoire with Jean for seven minutes.

“Let’s go!” Mina stood and pulled Jean by his collar towards the armoire. He choked and scrambled up quickly to avoid suffocation. Marco also stood, holding out his hand to help you up. You took it gratefully, but after looking at his too-innocent smile, you decided that maybe you shouldn’t trust him as much as you did.

Soon enough, the pair of you were in front of the armoire. It was smallish and wooden, but it could fit the two of you as far as height went. 

“Ladies first, Princess,” Jean smirked.

“Well, then?” You gestured towards the door, inviting him to go first. Your red face and intense self-consciousness were making you meaner than usual. He laughed and stepped into the armoire, making sure to leave you enough room to enter. You squished yourself on the opposite side, trying to get yourself as far away from him as possible.

“Have fuuuuun; we’ll let you out in seven minutes or when the next dare is done. Whichever comes last,” you heard Sasha giggle as she shut and locked the door. Everyone’s laughter could be heard by you, but it was very faint and muffled. You could say whatever you wanted and not have them hear.

“How’s your face, Princess?” Jean’s soft, low voice hummed in your ear. Despite being as far away from him as you could, your hands were resting on his chest for balance, and one of your legs was stuck between his. 

“I-it’s fine…” you stammered, beyond embarrassed. It was really hot, and you knew it was because of your flushed cheeks. You had your eyes screwed shut, and they shot wide open when Jean touched the right side of your face.

“K-Kirschtein?! Ohmygodwhatareyoudoing?!” you squeaked. Your speech sped up as he moved his hand up your jaw, resting underneath your ear. He put his thumb on your other cheek and gently tilted your head so you were looking at him. You stared at him, almost fearful, with your doe-like [e/c] eyes. There was a hole in the corner of the armoire, shining a couple small beams of light into the equally small space. You could see Jean’s confident, light-brown gaze, which was focused on your lightly parted lips. 

“Your lip seems to be doing better. Does it hurt?”

You couldn’t reply, and your knees were going weak. You were going to fall into him. You started trembling slightly in your nervousness, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Jean’s eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes, focusing on them intently.

“Does it?”

While you remained unmoving, you noticed that Jean was nervous, too. He was blushing. The only thing you wanted was to kiss him. You wanted him to care for you as much as you cared for him. It caused a painful longing in your chest, and the signs of it flitted across your face. Jean’s face held a hint of worry for you, and he opened his mouth to say something. He couldn’t find the words for a moment. 

“[L/N]… did you mean what you said before?”

You took a moment to breathe before answering. “What… did I say…?”

“That you… found me the sexiest person in the room.”

You both chuckled a little bit at that, loosening some of the tension that was between you.

“Yea, I did,” you laughed as you said it, trying your hardest to play it off like nothing.

“Well… thanks.” And the tension was back. You were both breathing heavier, and your knees didn’t want to function at all; they decided to stop trying anymore. They buckled heavily, and you started to collapse. Of course, Jean wouldn’t let you fall; he grabbed your waist and gripped your forearm, pulling you close to him. Your faces were only inches apart. You stared at each other in heavy silence. 

“Jean, I…” you started on accident.

“[L/N]… do you like me?” he whispered.

“I…” You wanted to look away from him very badly, but his hypnotic eyes didn’t allow it. “I… it’s warm, isn’t it?” you chuckled weakly. 

“Oi, are you avoiding my question?”

“Wh-what a silly thing to think! You’re weird, Kirschtein.”

“[L/N]. Answer me.”

“I can’t.” Fear took hold of your face. You wanted him to reciprocate your feelings. What if he didn’t? What would you do then? You’d lose one of your two best friends and be alone. You couldn’t do it, not if you knew he liked someone else. But… you didn’t actually know that, did you…?

“[L/N].”

“I can’t…”

“[L/N]!”

“I can’t!” You felt tears coming, threatening to overflow soon.

“[F/N]…” Jean stroked your uninjured cheek, trying to reassure you. It was very relieving, and the tears subsided quickly. 

“H-hey, Kirschtein… you know that question they asked Bert and Sasha and M… Mina?” You felt uneasy saying her name still.

“Yea, that first kiss one?” Jean accepted your invitation to change the conversation, but he didn’t remove his hand from your face.

“Why don’t you answer it while we’re in here?”

“…I haven’t had mine yet,” he muttered reluctantly.

“Who do you want to lose it to?” you teased him, dreading the answer. You were positive it was anyone but you.

He didn’t answer you.

“Are you dodging the question, Kirschtein?” you played with him verbally. You didn’t want to hear the answer.

Jean removed his gaze from the floor and stared into your eyes, remaining silent. 

“Kirschtein? I don’t hear a name coming out of your mouth.”

No answer.

“Jean…?”

“Time’s up!” Sasha called from outside of the armoire. She unlocked the door, and you started to fall out. You closed your eyes, prepared for the impending concussion. Jean grabbed you almost roughly and pulled you into his chest, keeping you from falling.

“Did anything exciting happen?” Christa called from her spot on the floor. She was completely caught up in everyone’s feelings of secret-digging.

“I don’t think so,” you stuck your tongue out at her after Jean released and steadied you.

“Tell me everything later!”

“Let’s keep going, guys! Maybe we can get a question that makes them tell us!”

Thankfully, it never came. 

Jean didn’t look at you for the rest of the night.


	5. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been about two years since training started. You and your friends are all seventeen now.

You and Marco were sitting next to each other, staring, frustrated, at Jean. It was dinner time. Jean, however, was more focused on the very obvious attention that Mina was giving him. Jealousy was running rampant across your mind, and you sat silently fuming across from the flirty giggles. You felt a bit like crying, yelling at one (or both) of the pair, and leaving the table completely. Marco kept casting glances between you and his ashy-haired friend, clearly unsure of how to break the tangible tension.

“Jean, you’re really good at using the maneuvering gear! You’re gonna have to teach me how to be better sometime,” Mina praised him, bumping into him with her shoulder. You didn’t like feeling anything negative towards Mina; she was pretty, nice, and cared a lot about her friends. Sadly, your feelings were exploding into rage.

In all honesty, you didn’t know why you were so angry. You’d only ever seen people act the way you were when they were in committed relationships. Sure, you and Jean were good friends, but it didn’t make sense to feel the anger and jealousy that you did. Of course you liked him, though you didn’t think that justified any of your feelings. Maybe… there was something more there.

‘Like love?’ you scoffed to yourself. There was no way that that was possible. He was too much of an asshole. And, judging by the way he was acting around Mina, he was looking to be praised. He looked too pleased with himself at the moment to make you think anything good about him.

“I’m leaving,” you announced quietly, standing with your plate full of food. All you could stomach was the piece of bread; the rest of it hadn’t been touched. 

“[F/N], you still have a lot of food left,” Marco pointed out with worry in his voice.

“I’ll give it to Sasha.” And with that, you stood and walked away.

~xXx~

“[F/N]!”

‘Go away, Marco,’ you thought. You weren’t mad at him, really; you just wanted to be alone. You felt a flow of waterworks about to break loose, so you didn’t want to be around people when it happened. Your feet scuffed against the ground, sending up a little puff of dust. You were confident that your pursuer wasn’t going to continue in his efforts.

“[F/N].” Marco had caught up to you rather quickly, much to your dismay. He grabbed your shoulder, and you stopped walking.

“I’m really worried about you. Talk to me,” he persuaded. The first drop found its way out of your eyes. You were still facing away from him, but as more tears came out, your trembling gave you away.

Without a word, your freckled friend whipped you around and gave you a hug. Your initial fury gave way into hurt. You sobbed into him, grabbing his jacket. Marco ruffled your hair comfortingly.

“It’ll be alright, [F/N]. Jean’s just a bit… dense, sometimes.” 

You couldn’t say anything, but you slowed your sobbing down from hysterics. 

“I’m sure he’ll get over this. He’s got you,” Marco smiled. You looked at him, sensing a sudden mood change. “Your feelings will get through to him, especially when you love him as much as you do.”

“Marco, what?” you choked out, feeling your stomach drop. He pushed you away so you were arms’ length away from him, and he studied your face closely.

“You didn’t know?” he asked, a confused expression dominating his face.

“Know what…?” You didn’t want to hear the answer. You really, really didn’t want to know what Marco had to say.

“You’re in love with Jean, [F/N].” His chocolate brown eyes bore into your [e/c] ones, reverberating with sincerity. 

“No, I’m not,” you refused. You couldn’t feel that way. That would be bad; there would be so much at stake if you made your feelings known. If Jean didn’t feel the same, then everything would be ruined. That’s what love did: it ruined relationships. Destroyed them entirely. Your face was covered in fear for the condition of your friendship with Jean. Marco stared at you, his expression unreadable.

‘Love’ was not an option. It would never be an option. If you pretended like you didn’t care about him, then these strong feelings would have to go away. You wiped away your tears and forced yourself to stand up straight. 

“I’ll be okay,” you assured. It was more for yourself, though. “I don’t care that much; it’s just that he’s being an ass.” You smiled at your friend. He didn’t believe you, but he released your shoulders anyway.

“I’ll be here for you if you need me,” Marco said seriously.

“Okay; I’ll remember that.”

~xXx ONE WEEK LATER xXx~

You punched the tree angrily for the sixth time; your knuckles were swollen, bruised, and the skin was closed to breaking. You were standing a bit away from the back of the mess hall, tears streaming furiously down your cheeks. You punched the tree again, letting out a pained grunt on impact. The knuckle for your index finger broke open, and you carefully pulled out a piece of bark from the slowly pooling blood. Jean and Mina kept their flirtatiousness going throughout meals, breaks, and even training. Tonight, during dinner, Mina kissed Jean’s cheek because of an inside joke they had going on. You sat through the meal in its entirety. Marco looked just as unhappy as you were. Jean, Mina, and Marco all headed towards the left of the hall as they exited, but you veered off to the right to find the tree you were standing at.

You dared to punch the tree again, remembering the kiss. Your fist unclenched itself, and you clutched your damaged hand to your chest. The sharp, burning pain only intensified your frustration and tears. You gritted your teeth against whimpers and sobs. You heard a crunch to your left, and your eyes widened in surprise and worry as your head shot up to witness the intruder.

“[L/N], what are you doing?” Jean took another step forward, kicking away the stick he had stepped on. He wore a face of cautious worry, and it only made you angrier.

“What do you want, Kirschtein?” you spat, turning your head away from him. You were still weakly holding your hand up to your chest, not noticing the blood you were getting on your clothes. The arm that housed your injured hand was shaking slightly, but noticeably.

“Don’t be like that, Princess,” Jean replied with an edge in his voice. “What’s wrong?” You didn’t want to be mad at him. You really, really didn’t… but you couldn’t stop yourself. You felt like venom was pouring out of every orifice of your being, waiting impatiently to attack someone.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong, really; I just didn’t realize that one of my best friends is a pig-headed attention whore.” Your tears had stopped; the only remnants of them was the slight wetness and redness of your face. 

“Whoa, what?”

“You heard me, Kirschtein,” you growled. You turned to face him, though you were still glowering at the ground. “You’ve let Mina drool all over you with no problem.” You wanted to stop. Stop… “It was probably to inflate that ego of yours because you weren’t good enough for Mikasa.” Your hands dropped to your sides, and a little bit of blood dripped twice to the dirt.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re going on about, but I told you that I don’t have any feelings for her anymore.” Jean didn’t sound angry; it was something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I guess that’s why you have someone who looks like Mikasa’s second best hanging over you all the time, huh?”

“Why attack Mina and Mikasa? I didn’t realize that one of my best friends was petty and possessive.” He was mocking you with a twinge of something dark in his voice. In a flash, you understood what that other emotion was:

Pain.

“I’m petty? What about you, Mister I-Need-a-Girl-So-I-Can-Feel-Better-About-Myself? What do you need Mina for, anyway?

“What, I’m not allowed to have friends outside of you and Marco?”

“She’s not your friend; she’s your lapdog!”

“Don’t insult her!”

You were both glaring harshly into each other’s eyes, and your stances looked like you were going to break out into a fistfight. 

“And don’t think,” Jean continued furiously, “that I’m going to let you run my life.”

“I wasn’t trying to! You could have told me—”

“I don’t need to tell you everything! I’m not always going to go to you first if I have a problem! What on earth made you act like this?!”

“You did, Kirschtein! You did this to me!”

“No,” Jean smirked with nothing but meanness. “You did this to yourself. Blaming me won’t get the fault away from you, Princess. You’re being pretty selfish.”

“Shut up!” you shouted. “All of this was because I was worried about you! Because I—” I love you. You froze in horror, unable to continue.

“Because you what, [L/N]?” Jean pressed.

“N-nothing! Just go away. I have to go do something.” You cast your gaze back downwards, feeling fear take hold of your body. It made everything on you go cold, except for the open wounds on your knuckles.

“I’m not walking away from this, [L/N].” Jean stepped towards you, exercising a bit more of the caution he’d used before this fight. His voice was gentler. You took a step backwards to match him.

“Please,” you asked quietly. He didn’t move, and you made your way around his left side. As soon as you were standing with your back facing his, you paused. You wanted to say something to make everything better, but nothing could come to mind. You ran away to your room as fast as you could.

~xXx~

“[F/N], what happened to you?!” Christa gasped.

“What are you talking about?” you slurred groggily. It was the next morning at breakfast, and you were sitting with Ymir, Christa, Franz, and Hanna. You had cried heavily the night before until you fell asleep.

“Take a look,” Ymir asserted, handing you a small mirror. Your eyes were very swollen with purple underneath the rims, you were pale, and you had a streak of dried blood across one of your cheeks. You looked at your damaged hand, realizing that you didn’t treat it before you went to bed. That’s definitely where the blood on your face came from. You returned the mirror and stood, taking your plate with you. There was barely a spoonful of eggs eaten, and that’s all that was touched. You walked to Sasha’s table and handed her the plate. She set it down with a light clatter and looked up at you, her face holding concern.

“You should eat, [F/N]. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“I’m fine,” you smiled unconvincingly. Connie looked slightly uneasy across from Sasha.

“You’ve been doing this for a week,” the ponytailed girl replied uncertainly. 

“The food’s better off with you anyway,” you pushed. You started to back up from the table, refusing to take your plate back. You left the hall before anyone else.

You stumbled across the clearing on the way back to your room; dizziness was taking over your head, and you were seeing little black and white dots, like static, flurry around your vision. You clutched the sides of your head, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure. You squeezed your eyes shut. You could feel yourself wobble, but you felt detached from yourself at the same time. A thin veil had made itself known between your senses and your body, muffling everything. You thought you heard someone say your name, but at the same time, sound was foreign to you.

You opened your eyes after regaining a little bit of composure between your mind and body. Someone was holding you up by your waist and one of your shoulders, letting you use them as a prop for standing. You hadn’t even felt them grab you, and when you tried to think of the feeling, all you got was the ghost of a memory. You pulled away from them, trying semi-successfully to stand on your own. It had to be Marco who helped you, but the body didn’t feel right. You still weren’t connected too well with yourself.

“Thanks,” you groaned, feeling your headache starting to fade a little.

“Have you eaten?” Mikasa answered with a level-headed voice and cool eyes. You looked up into her face, which was, according to your uncooperative vision, oddly unfocused and yet too focused at the same time. 

“Mikasa,” you muttered dumbly out of shock.

“Have you eaten?” she repeated patiently.

“No,” you admitted softly. She turned slightly to her left, calling for someone. Eren stepped forward, holding three pieces of toast and a banana. 

“You should try, then,” Eren encouraged. “I heard that you want to join the Survey Corps. You can’t fight like this.”

You took the food carefully and silently. You shrank into yourself, embarrassed, but you managed to murmur out a “thank you” to the pair. 

On your walk back to your room, all you could think was “Eren is right”. You wanted to join the Survey Corps—not just for the adventure, but you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to be able to fight for yourself; if humans wouldn’t listen to you, then you’d make sure the titans would catch the fire of your wrath. When you fought with humans, you felt sometimes that, no matter what you said or did, you wouldn’t be heard. It wouldn’t mean anything to defend yourself. With titans… you had to fight. You were going to be stronger. You had to, and you wouldn’t let Jean Kirschtein stop you from doing it. But the thought of leaving him behind stung, leaving an ache in your chest. You wanted him to be on your side. At the very least, if he couldn’t reciprocate your feelings, you wanted him to watch your back. You had to patch things up with him, but you had to make peace with yourself first.

You had to talk to Marco after dinner.

~xXx~

Your dizziness heavily affected your training, and the thought of you being in love with Jean wasn’t helping. Said horse-face ignored you the entire time, it seemed. Marco was basically your shadow, following you because he knew you weren’t okay. Practice involved endurance—mostly running and doing drills with the 3dmg. Obviously, it wasn’t the best thing for you, with the way you were feeling. After one of the sets of laps, you were hunched over, panting heavily. Sweat was dripping from your face, and you were having a very, very hard time breathing. Your knees were weak, and the muscles in your legs were beyond aching.

“Stand up straight,” you heard the command, but you couldn’t unbend yourself. “C’mon,” Jean encouraged in a softer voice. He rested a hand on your back lightly, hoping to relax you enough to stand upright. You were thrilled that he was touching you and that he wanted to help, but his voice and presence was almost too much for your chest to handle. You let him coax you into standing. You glanced up at his face, and instead of seeing the care you heard in his voice, you saw icy, cold, blank eyes. In that moment, you made a decision: he could never know how you felt. He would reject you, and he wouldn’t feel the same. Ever. Your body felt like a mix of cold and hot, and as you raised your arms over your head, you felt a burning numbness in your muscles. You couldn’t get Jean’s unfeeling gaze out of your mind. He left you, and his eyes haunted you vividly until you and Marco left the mess hall together.

“Marco, can I talk to you?” you asked softly. You felt nothing but defeat from the last week, and it was showing in everything you did.

“Of course, [F/N]. We can go to my room, if you want.” 

You hesitated in answering. Your unspoken question didn’t go unnoticed by your friend.

“Jean won’t be there; he wanted to take a shower. He takes a long time, too, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in on anything.”

You made your way to their room, and, sure enough, Jean wasn’t there. He had left his side of the room a little bit out of sorts, with a shirt and belt on his bed and his sheets in disarray. You noticed that there was no armoire like the other rooms, but it had a closet on the right side (Jean’s side).

‘The room’s a bit smaller than normal,’ you noted in your head, ‘so it’d make sense to have a closet to make more room.’

“You can sit,” Marco motioned to Jean’s bed with a small smile. You looked back and forth from the disheveled bed to your freckled friend, trying to sense any trickery. He seemed to be earnest, so you sat quietly on the edge of Jean’s bed, secretly reveling in his smell. It made you a bit sad, though, because your fight came flooding back to you upon thinking of him. “Of course this is about Jean,” Marco continued, confirming the topic of conversation. You nodded before replying.

“What you said before, about me loving him…” you started. You inhaled deeply, trying to calm yourself down. “You were right, I think. I do love him. But…” 

“But you don’t want to?” Marco finished, reading your expression easily. You nodded again.

“If I love him, and I tell him, then I could lose everything we have. So… I want to keep this from him. He can’t know how I feel.”

“I understand.” Your gaze was focused on the ground, and your face was bright red. You finally confessed your feelings to someone… Your chest felt heavier than it did before, but you also felt like a weight had been lifted off of you. 

“Can I ask you something, though?” 

“Of course.”

“Did I do something wrong? Something to make Jean angry at me?” Your eyes started to pool as you remembered Jean’s cold stare.

Marco chuckled, and your head jolted upwards to look at him in hurt and surprise. He was smiling softly at you, as if he just realized something.

“You didn’t do anything, [F/N],” he reassured. “Jean’s just too caring for his own good.”

“I don’t understand,” you stated slowly, getting slightly irritated at his vagueness. He stood suddenly, walking towards you. He stopped in front of you, and his kindly freckled face captured yours with cautious curiosity. 

“[F/N]… you’re thoughtful, sweet, and beautiful. You’re easily one of Jean’s most precious and important friends. If you’ll pardon my saying this, I won’t let him give up on you.”

“‘Give up’ on me? What are you saying, Marco…?” you murmured. Blush was dominating your face, but you couldn’t look away from his sincere chocolate eyes. He was wearing a sweet expression. You knew where the conversation was going, and you weren’t sure you wanted to continue along that path.

“I love you, [F/N].”

Your mind blanked. You were completely at a loss of what to feel or do. Marco chuckled again.

“It doesn’t matter. I know how you feel about Jean; I’ve known for a while. I just wanted to say it, ya’ know?”

“Marco, I…” What were you going to say?

“It’s okay, [F/N]. I’m okay with giving up.”

You wanted to stand and give him a giant hug and apologize and cry and thank him for feeling the way he did, but you couldn’t move.

“Thank you for listening, [F/N]. I know this was difficult to hear, and it didn’t explain much…” He paused, his smile shrinking into something more serious. “But I won’t hear anything else about giving up. I trust you heard everything, Jean.”

What?

The closet door opened, and your blood turned to ice. You felt sick. There was no way he didn’t know.

“…Yea, I did.”


	6. A Prince for Every Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit short, but seeing as cheese literally oozed out of my keyboard while typing this, I'm pretty okay with the length.

The closet door opened, and your blood turned to ice. You felt sick. There was no way he didn’t know.

“…Yea, I did.”

~xXx~

You couldn’t shake the growing sense of dread from your body. You didn’t look around to see him.

“Kirschtein… you heard everything…”

“I’m sorry, [L/N], I—”

You jolted upwards, away from the bed and its owner.

“No.”

“[L/N], don’t worry…” Jean’s gentle voice turned to more of a harsh noise in your head. You stared at the floor, unsure as to whether or not it was getting closer. You had started to cry, but they were slow, silent tears. A hand brushed against your shoulder, and you whipped around to face it. Jean’s face had emotion in it, this time: worry, mostly, and a want to comfort you. Unfortunately, he was also shirtless, making it frustratingly hard to focus. It took quite a bit to not look down from his face. You backed away from him towards the door, fear rattling through your body. You got far enough away from him to glance back and forth between Jean and an ashamed Marco.

“[F/N], I’m sorry,” the latter mumbled. “I know this wasn’t the best way, but Jean needed to hear how I felt, too.”

“…You said he wasn’t going to be here,” you accused in a low voice, taking another step.

“He wasn’t supposed to be, but then I saw him move in the closet, and…”

“You don’t seem like the plotting type,” you growled. Fear was making you lash out—fear of Jean, his reaction, and Marco’s confession. Your emotions were in turmoil. Marco looked hurt, but the regret you felt got swished around in the storm of yourself.

“Let me talk to you,” Jean coaxed, the look of worry still possessing his face. You couldn’t look at him completely.

“How dare you,” you hissed miserably at your freckled friend. What has he done? What has he done?! It was all over. You shifted another shaky step backwards.

“[F/N], I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Guilt and pain raged across his face. You didn’t care.

“[L/N], please,” Jean pleaded lightly, leaning in your direction, prepared to move toward you. Nausea surged again, and you were finally aware of the feeling of tears streaming down your cheeks.

“No,” you murmured. You wanted this not to be true. You could see it on his face: rejection. Or was it because your eyes were filled? Was your vision just blurry? No. No, he was going to reject your love, and then you were going to be alone. No…

You whipped around quickly, opening the door and bolting as fast as you could away from their room, the suffocating air, your friend who’d betrayed you. Crashing into walls, stumbling over your own feet, you made it outside of the boys’ dorm building. The roaring in your ears never stopped as you ran. You paid no mind to where you were going, and you were totally unaware of the time. Was it past curfew? No, there were still a few people out. You were trying to focus on something, anything to keep your mind off of Jean.

You were running until you landed on your ankle wrong, causing you to cry out and fall. You landed hard on the ground. Irritated with your clumsiness, you dusted yourself off and stared at the ground angrily. Your chest hurt. You didn’t want to be angry at Marco anymore, and you didn’t want to be afraid of Jean; you wanted your old friendship back. 

Looking around at the scenery you’d tripped in, you came to a slow realization: you were in the spot that you and Jean had made your promise to find each other. The beautiful meadow, covered in light-colored, blooming flowers illuminated by moonlight. Being able to see it made you choke a little. You ran your fingers lightly over the soft grass, grazing over a lilac. Your eyes welled up again.

“Stupid Marco,” you muttered with a tone of defeat. “Stupid Kirschtein.” You looked up at the sky, the waxing crescent of the moon.

“Jean…!” you whimpered, ending in a hiccup. The sobs flowed out freely. Your emotions were torn between wanting to see him and wanting him to disappear. You tried to imagine what his face must have looked like when you ran away; was he hurt? Confused? Maybe he was relieved that you were leaving. He was probably prepared to back out of your friendship. “Jean… don’t leave me…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Princess.” Jean’s voice was soft and gentle, inadvertently reassuring you that he, at least, was not upset or angry.

“Why are you here, Kirschtein?” you mumbled, wiping your face and failing to mask your embarrassment. Your back was facing him, hiding your blushing face. 

“I need to say some things, too.” He walked in front of you, kneeling and sitting so you were at eye level. He had thrown on his shirt sloppily, only having buttoned three buttons total. It was making him infinitely more distracting. He brushed his hand through his ashy hair, sighing lightly and glancing down to his left. Wait… was that a hint of blush red in his cheeks…?

“I was going to let go of you, too. For Marco.” He paused. “I knew how Marco felt about you, and… I saw how happy he made you.” He looked into your eyes, his gaze sharp and focused. Looking at him straight on made his blush easier to see. He gave you your favorite lopsided smirk, though, this time, it held bitterness. “Besides, every princess needs a prince, right? And Marco… he’s definitely that. He’s someone that you deserve. I don’t think I’m a bad guy; I’m just weak. I’m imperfect.”

You were shocked. You didn’t want to believe what he was saying. Carefully, Jean reached up and brushed the backs of his fingers against your cheek. His hazel eyes captured you.

“You’re definitely a princess,” he laughed quietly. “You’re pretty tough, but you’re definitely a princess. You make everyone around you happier, and I… am completely captivated by you.” His voice grew softer as he spoke, and your faces gravitated towards each other.

“Thank you, but… I’m not really as great as you said. I can’t even say what I want to properly; I’m quiet and I don’t think that highly of myself. I wish I could see myself the way you see me. But if you think someone like me is a princess, then… I guess I need an imperfect prince to match…” You and Jean were both staring at the grass, heavily blushing. 

“[L/N]… no, [F/N],” Jean murmured. He bumped his forehead against yours gently, still lightly stroking your face. “[F/N], [F/N]… I love you.” Hope and happiness soared through your heart and chest, forcing you to cry more. Jean wiped your tears with his other hand, cradling your face gently. Your cheeks were so hot that you thought your tears were going to evaporate.

“Jean, I love you too,” you half sobbed.

“Oi,” Jean smiled. “No more crying, alright?” You nodded your agreement and tried to force the waterworks to thin out.

“I haven’t had my first kiss either,” you whispered accidently. You didn’t really want to say anything about it, but god, you really wanted to kiss him.

“Oh really?” Jean asked in response. The usual mischievous, taunting glint in his eyes returned. “And who do you want to take it from you?”

“Isn’t it more like ‘who do I want to give it to?’” you giggled self-consciously.

“Well, if we’re talking about me, I am able and willing to take what I want.” His smile held promises, but you could tell he was embarrassed, too. Still, you felt so nervous you thought your chest was going to twist itself inside out.

You mustered up as much courage as you could (which wasn’t very much; his face was incredibly close to yours) to reply to him.

“And what do you want…?”

Jean stared at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You.” 

He pulled your face towards his carefully, pressing his lips against yours. You both closed your eyes at the same time. You reveled in the feeling of his kiss; you’d been waiting for this for almost two years. He kissed you slowly for a little bit before pulling away, leaving you more embarrassed than you were before and slightly out of breath. You stared at each other for a moment before you remembered that Jean’s shirt was not doing its job of covering his torso very well. You jumped backwards and hid your face.

“Huh?” 

“Wahhhhh that was so embarrassing!” you yelped from behind your hands.

“Oh,” Jean sighed in relief. “I thought I did something wrong.”

You shook your head ‘no’ to assuage his fears.

“I was going to say ‘you’d better get used to it’, but if you’re going to have cute reactions like this every time I kiss you, then I don’t want you to.”

“Sh… shut up, Kirshtein…” 

“That’s ‘Prince Kirschtein’ to you, Princess.”

He hugged you tightly and held you for a little while. You knew you had to apologize to Marco, and you were desperately hoping that everything was going to be okay. You let yourself get lost in Jean’s scent and hugged him back. You almost swore that, where Jean’s face was against your neck, you could feel a bit of wetness.


End file.
